Broken Wings
by Panabelle
Summary: Bright green eyes that had always seen through him smiled into his and twinkled like the moons and stars above.


Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. If I did, I wouldn't have drawn Van to look so feminine so damned often; but who gives a hoot, the boy (anime though he may be) is frickin' hot! 

A/N: *bows in homage to her Lord, Lord Ashrom* I have to thank Ash for introducing me to Escaflowne, if he hadn't loaned me those DVD's last week, I never would have discovered it! *laughs at herself* Anyways, this is my first Escaflowne fic; it's pure mush. I know it's not the greatest fic in the world, but I don't care, I'm proud of it.

Broken Wings

  


Brown eyes closed. The cool breeze kissed his cheeks and tossled his hair. he turned his face into the gentle wind, one hand griping the sword hilt at his waist, the other hanging limply. Overhead, the mystic moon and its satelite glowed blue in the night sky, the stars danching happily around them. 

Eyes still closed, he drew in a deep breath, letting the sweet air of Fanelia fill his lungs, a sense of calm washing over him. His hair was blown into his eyes, masking his face and painting him peaceful. 

As if in a dream, he felt her arms slide around his chest, felt her press her cheek against his shoulder, he warm body fitting against his. Eyes still closed, he reached up a hand, his free hand, and grasped hers: right hand clasping left, left hand clasping hilt. He didn't dare think, too terrified that she would fade away back into his dreams, into his memories. In his mind, his brown eyes opened; he tilted back his head, looking through half-lidded, deep chocolate eyes down at the delicate, honey-blond head that leaned against his shoulder, at the closed eyes that could be perceived over the loose homespun fabric of his shirt. He smiled fondly, quietly, as she opened her eyes, hugging him tighter; her face turned, and she pushed herself up ono her toes, moving one arm to drape across his shoulder. Bright green eyes that had always seen through him smiled into his and twinkled like the moons and stars above, a perfect contrast to his dark and broodingly devoted yet cautious eyes. 

He lifted his hand from the hild of his sword, reaching slowly with his fingers, glissing them along the line of her jaw. She laughed quietly, wrapping both arms around his neck with a giggle. He smiled shyly, and then she was in his arms. He smiled as his wings unfolded, slipping easilythrough the slits that someone had demanded be cut into his shirt. Feathers swirled down from the roof they stood on. She clung to his neck as he pushed off into the air, not caring where they went or what lay in store for them, just so long as he could see her smile in his heart. 

Her fingers clung lovingly to him, tangling in his hair. 

He smiled. 

"I have no right to hold you like this, Hitomi," he murmured into her ear as he held her, as the night enveloped them in an embrace too imtimate for lovers. 

She simply smiled. 

* * *

He opened his eyes, withdrawing from the fantasy. Slowly, a pair of chocolate brown eyes opened to greet the midnight sky; one hand rested on his sword hilt, the other hung limply at his side. His eyes, dark with melancholy brooding and regret, yet bright with loving respect and understanding, settled on the blue moon above. 

He sighed, lowered his head to gaze blandly at the roofing tiles beneath his feet. 

Once upon a time, he had been able to close his eyes and feel his troubles melt away from his body, like letting go of a cloak wrapped around his shoulders and feeling it slip away, or like surfacing slowly from a deep body of water. And when he'd open his eyes, he could see clearly past the problems that had plagued him, a sense of relief in his eyes rather than burden. And then he would fly; anywhere in any direction, it didn't matter. Whever he went, what waited him there, he didn't care. 

But now, his troubles laid heavier on his mind than they had before he'd closed his eyes. And yet, still, he slowly spread his wings, the spans reaching slowly out to the skies as if he were beseeching the stars. Through the slits in the old red shirt they emerged; feathers swirled around him, lead by the breeze that circled his body and sought to console him. 

He leaned forward to push himself from the roof, but as his last toe lifted from the tiles he slowly lowered himself back to where he'd been before, standing, a lone figure facing the night. 

Where would he go? There was no where to be; there was no place he belonged or wished to see. Not that he could fly to. With a sigh, his head feel slowly forward, his wings drooped. 

His wings might as well have been broken, for all the good they were to him. 

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A/N: Ok, so it's really short and it may not be the best story in the world, but I'm proud of my imagery, dagnammitall! Review por favor. -Panabelle ;P 


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